


In the Sun

by aurilly



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-29
Updated: 2009-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:36:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/pseuds/aurilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mohinder and Elle take a vacation to the Caribbean. Sylar does not like the idea of Mohinder moving on...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a twenty minute ride from the ferry station on St. Barth's to the resort. Mohinder and Elle shared a taxi with an old gentleman who coincidentally was going to the same hotel. He sat quietly behind them in the van while Elle cooed and Mohinder bitched.

"I still don't know what we're doing here. Who are we supposed to be looking for? Why do we need to spend a week? We've never been assigned to a week-long project before." Mohinder had been kvetching all morning---during the flight, on the ferry…

Elle grabbed Mohinder's hand desperately. He looked from it to her quizzically. "I have a confession to make," she blurted out. "We're not on a project. We're on vacation."

_"What?!"_

"We've been benched. We really fucked up that day back with Sylar."

"That was two months ago!" Mohinder sputtered.

"Yeah, but daddy thinks we've both been off our game ever since. He decided we need to get away and recharge." Elle put her arms around Mohinder's back and started rubbing both of his shoulders. "And who better to take care of one another than us? Partners, you know…"

The old man couldn't know it, but there had been a time when Mohinder would have given her a confused look and extricated himself immediately. However, today, he didn't flinch at all and almost---just almost---leaned into her touch.

"He sent us to the beach? I thought we were here to look for a…" He stopped himself, and didn't look behind him at the old man. The cab driver only spoke French, so he couldn't understand what was being said, but there was no way Mohinder and Elle could be sure about the other passenger.

"That's what he told me to tell you to get you to come quietly. I'm sorry. I hated having to lie to you about it. I've never had to lie to a friend before." She looked distraught but smiled at a positive thought. "I _did_ design the vacation, though, once he said we had to go. We're going to one of the best hotels on the island."

"Obviously," Mohinder snarked. "People are dying, killers are on the loose, and you want to loll about on the beach. I'm turning right around and getting the first flight back to---"

He had finally gotten her on the verge of being angry. "Daddy'll be _pissed_, first for leaving me stranded, and second for disobeying an order. Look, Mohinder. It was either hiding and doing nothing in New York or hiding and doing nothing somewhere fun. You said yourself that he's…" Now it was her turn to stop herself and regroup. "That he's probably after me. There's no more list. Who else can he get his hands on? There's no way for him to know we're here. It's the safest place. And we both know he's after you, in some bizarre way, even though you're not… you know. So I have to keep you safe. One of them, one of us, right?"

Mohinder slumped back into his seat, giving up. "Wonderful. You're making _me_ sound like the damsel in distress."

Mohinder was really sarcastic with this girl, but underneath his prickly exterior, it seemed like it was mostly in good fun.

"And such a pretty one, at that," she quipped.

And she could obviously give it as good as she got.

Mohinder started to complain again. "I have entirely too much to do to---"

"You wouldn't be allowed to do it anyway. You might as well relax and have some fun. It _is_ ok to have fun sometimes, you know."

A few minutes later, the van pulled up at the hotel. The three of them exited the cab. Mohinder kindly helped the old man out of the taxi, holding his arm gently at the elbow.

"Merci," the gentleman said, holding Mohinder's hand tightly.

"De rien," Mohinder replied as he finally extricated his appendage.

Bellhops took their luggage as they all went to reception. Elle marched forward to the desk and rang the bell.

"May I help you?" The check in-in lady had a soothing Caribbean accent.

"We're here to check in. I made a reservation under Bishop. Seven nights."

"Ah yes," the woman replied after looking up the name. "A garden view junior suite. Two queen size beds."

Mohinder cut in and angrily twirled Elle around to face him. "You made a reservation for just one room?"

"Well, yes of course, darling," she replied sweetly. "How else are you going to protect me during the night?" she continued in a teasing whisper.

Mohinder sputtered in disbelief. "I can't believe… even for you…" Mohinder shuddered.

Elle actually looked chastised. "There are two beds. It isn't wholly indecent."

Mohinder put his head in his hands for a moment and then looked back up at that inquisitive receptionist. "Are there any other rooms we can add to the reservation?" he begged.

"Unfortunately, we're fully booked. We have a large wedding party arriving today and taking up most of the rooms," she replied and handed Mohinder the key cards. "You're in room 405, in the East Wing. Enjoy your stay!"

As they moved out of sight, the receptionist turned to the old man. "Yes, sir?"

"Checking in for one. Seven nights. The name is Gray," he said in English.

"Of course." The woman looked him up in the system while he followed the young pair with his eyes. Leaning into the desk, he added, "Are there any rooms near them? I have a feeling it might be amusing to run into those two young people from time to time and watch the fireworks."

She laughed and nodded understandingly at the sweet old man. "I'll get you a room in the same wing."

****************************************************************

"Are these taken?" Mohinder asked politely of the lithe and attractive Frenchman splayed beside two empty beach chairs.

"No, not at all," came the thick accent.

Mohinder set his things on the little table between the two chairs and lay down wearily. Looking right at him, Elle very slowly removed her linen button-down shirt, and then seductively wriggled out of her tiny white shorts. Mohinder averted his eyes about halfway through the process, and focused on his magazine. Elle clicked her tongue in irritation, but made another attempt to get his attention.

"What do you think?" she asked. Mohinder looked up and she twirled around like a Ziegfeld girl.

Mohinder peered at her over the top rim of his reading glasses. "Think of what?"

Elle threw her hands up and exploded. "I don't freaking get it! I mean, are you gay or what?"

A few people discreetly looked over at them.

"I---I beg your pardon?" Mohinder looked hopelessly confused and more than a little panicked.

"I mean, Adam always told me I was one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen… and god knows he's had lots of comparison. Here I come with my brand new Eres bikini and… nothing! I mean, do you just not find me attractive at all?" Elle finished with a sad huff.

Mohinder looked even more confused. "I am your bathing suit?"

Now Elle was bewildered in addition to frustrated. "What are you talking about? What does my bathing suit have to do with you?"

"I don't know. You tell me. You're the one who brought it up," Mohinder continued in exasperation.

The Frenchman lightly touched Elle's arm. "In Spanish, 'eres' means 'you are'," he informed her, in order to help facilitate Mohinder's ability to answer Elle's question, the answer to which interested him. Elle started to laugh.

"Oh! Hey, thanks." Turning back to Mohinder, she continued matter-of-factly, "Eres is a high-end French lingerie company."

"And why would I know that?" he asked irritatedly.

"But even still! I mean, the first time you met me, I was half-naked and you didn't notice---"

Mohinder rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, but in the space of about thirty seconds, I was told I was going to be partnered with someone known as 'the executioner', then informed that she was my new boss's daughter, then watched you---" Mohinder glanced momentarily at their neighbor, who was pretending not to listen. "---break a glass in a new and interesting way. I think I can be excused for being distracted. Few men could focus on aesthetics at such a time, even for the world's most beautiful woman."

"Which I'm not, I guess is what you're saying," Elle finished with a pout.

Mohinder seemed to finally realize that he was hurting her feelings. With his best (but still awkward) effort at a sexy smile, he shyly answered, "I may have had less opportunity for comparison, but I agree with Adam."

That was all it took for Elle to be all smiles again. "You're an idiot, Mohinder, but when you finally get with the program, your accent makes it all better."

Mohinder's only response was a bashful quirk of the lips, and he quickly looked down again. A moment later, Elle leaned down and kissed him on the cheek before making a show of lying down and putting on her sunglasses. She looked over at him. "Are you going to stay in your clothes all day?"

Mohinder was indeed fully dressed, with cargo pants and two shirts on.

"Well, I don't know. I don't usually…" he started, but it was clear to anyone listening that he was being ridiculous.

"Usually, fine, when you're in the city. But now you're in the Caribbean and it's ninety degrees. Or is it me? Do I make you uncomfortable?" she asked suggestively.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. You do," he spat. "You're always…"

"Come on. We're at the beach," she ordered mockingly, uninterested in hearing more criticism.

Mohinder got up, and with great self-consciousness, began removing his pants.

"Bow-chica---" Elle started.

"Shut it," Mohinder snapped.

Despite himself, the Frenchman who had helped them with the vocabulary guffawed; he was discreetly watching, too, and with almost as much interest as Elle.

"Oh, and you were being so gentlemanly just a minute ago…" Elle chided. Mohinder just glared at her. Elle bit on a straw as Mohinder finally got down to just his navy blue bathing suit. He sat back down, but her eyes still followed him, and her jaw went slack.

"I didn't know scientists looked like that," she whispered, gaping at his surprisingly Adonis-like physique.

Mohinder blushed. "If you don't stop, I'll put my clothes back on and go to the other side of the pool."

That silenced her.

"May I ask what you're reading?" the Frenchman leaned forward to ask Mohinder across Elle.

Mohinder looked surprised at being addressed. "Oh. Just a travel magazine this one bought me." He pointed at Elle and smiled indulgently. " You can borrow it if you want. It isn't really my thing."

"Hey!" Elle squealed, and smacked his arm.

Mohinder looked at what was in the other man's hands. "Oh! Is that 'The Peak Experience'?"

The Frenchman smiled meaningfully. "Yes it is. Have you read it?"

Mohinder fell into a reverie. "No, not yet, but I've been meaning to. Someone I once knew… someone once quoted a part of it to me..."

The man passed the book to Mohinder with a self-satisfied grin. "I finished the last page before you two sat down. Consider it a gift."

Mohinder gaped. "I couldn't possibly---" he started.

"Bah, take it." He thrust it into Mohinder's hands. Elle quietly watched the strange transaction taking place over her legs.

"Thank you," Mohinder said, turning the book over in his hands and looking pleased.

"I look forward to discussing it with you in a few days," the man said. "That is, if you two are still honeymooning here by the time you finish it."

Elle and Mohinder replied simultaneously. A joyful "We'll still be here!" and a frantic "We aren't honeymooners!" The unlikely non-couple looked at one another in annoyance.

The Frenchman leaned back into his chair and picked up one of his other pieces of reading material. "I see," he said.

*********************************************************

Mohinder and Elle had been at the nightclub for two hours, but since Mohinder was too uptight to dance, they were ready to go. However, they had to stick around until the next water taxi was scheduled to take them back to their hotel. Elle took another slurp from her cocktail. "I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

The swarthy man sitting on the bar stool next to Mohinder moved as though to get up and head in the same direction. He followed Elle with his eyes, looking towards the place where the bathrooms were. It was extremely crowded. It was a bad idea, a bad time. The man sat back down and addressed Mohinder.

"She seems like a handful, that one."

Mohinder at first narrowed his eyebrows at the man's rude and unasked for comment, but declenched when he saw only jovial friendliness in the other man's face. He smiled at Elle's retreating figure. "Yes, she is. But she's… great, underneath all the weirdness. And who am I to judge? I'm not that easy to deal with myself." He laughed. "Do you know you're about the third person since we arrived here who's struck up a conversation with me about her? It's strange. I'm starting to get paranoid that everyone's watching us. And even more scarily, I'm starting to get used to it."

"You strike me as the kind of person who could get used to anything," the man replied.

Mohinder shook his head in contemplation. "You don't know the half of it."

The other man smiled knowingly. "I'll bet. Anyway, I think you two probably attract a lot of attention wherever you go. Not only do you make a fascinatingly contrasting pair but… what is life like being the two best-looking people on the island?"

Mohinder looked bashfully at his feet. "Oh, I don't know about that. Of course, she obviously is…"

When it was clear that Mohinder wasn't going to finish the sentence, the man asked another question. "How did you two meet?"

Mohinder considered this. "She's my boss's daughter. We've been partnered together for the past two months."

The stranger made a face and took another swig of beer. "And now you're on vacation together? Awkward. Good thing nothing's actually going on, right?"

"Right," Mohinder replied, but didn't sound as firm about it as the man had hoped. Mohinder's eyes were fixed on the bathroom door and lit up when Elle finally emerged.

"Ready to go?" he asked kindly, when she came back. "Good night!" he said to the man he had been talking to.

"Thanks for a fantastic first date, Mohinder," Elle said on their way out.

*********************************************************

"Come, swim with me," Mohinder said playfully, and tried to yank Elle out of her seat. He was wet and glistening in the afternoon sunshine, just back from a dip in the surf. He was visibly relaxed and finally starting to show a loosened-up, goofy side of himself that almost no one got to see.

Elle wrinkled her nose, for once not ogling him. "No thanks," she said, without looking up from her magazine.

Mohinder stood over her and glowered like a spoiled boy who was suddenly realizing how much he liked attention now that he wasn't getting any. "We've been here for two days and you haven't gotten into the water once. I'm sick of swimming all by myself."

"Aw, poor neglected… grown-up. You go on ahead. I'm just going to read." Despite her mocking tone, she sounded strangely upset and uncomfortable.

Mohinder wasn't going to back down. "Why won't you come? You dragged me on this vacation against my will and now you won't even do it properly. I'm not making you do laps. I just want company at the pool bar," he complained.

The tall, pale young man with dark hair sitting behind Elle quietly got up and slid into the water.

Elle pulled down her sunglasses and looked Mohinder right in the eye. "Don't you get it? I _can't_ swim."

"That's no problem. I love teaching people how to swim," Mohinder said, still not getting it. Suddenly he had a flash. "Or is it… oh. Is it that time of…?" he whispered, and was unable to finish the sentence.

Elle grimaced. "Oh god, no. And you? Are dense. Come on, you're a freaking scientist whose specialty is… people like me," she continued in a whisper. "There are things in life that don't mix. You know, like water and…" she trailed off, nodding her head to encourage him to think.

Mohinder clapped his palm to his face and looked mortified. "What an idiot! I can't believe I… of course. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you should be. You've basically been rubbing it in my face, asking me to go swimming every five freaking minutes. Unless you want everyone else in the pool to die, which I think is something you seem to be generally against."

Mohinder thought about this. "If you can't swim, then why are we here? Of all the kinds of vacation..."

Elle smiled happily around them. "I don't need the water. I like the beach. I like the sun. I like the sand. I like being in a place with lots of other people, doing something normal." A mischievous smirk crept onto her face. "Plus I get to stare at you all wet and shirtless."

Mohinder opened his mouth to speak, but instead turned around to hide his embarrassment. He walked to the diving board. The man who had been sitting behind them watched closely from the water as Mohinder did a simple but perfect swan dive into the deep end. When Mohinder came up for air, he found the man lingering by the staircase leading out of the pool.

"That was really impressive." He used his regular voice this time, just to see.

"Not really, but thanks," Mohinder laughed, trying to shake some of the water out of his ears. As the voice registered, he went rigid and really looked at the man, who smiled back innocently.

"I've been trying to learn for years. I've never been able to do it quite right."

Mohinder looked at him as if in a daze. "I'll coach you, if you want. Go up and give it a few tries. I'll direct you from here."

"Thanks, that's very kind of you."

Mohinder stayed at the edge of the deep end, giving the young man pointers for the next twenty minutes. After a few tries, he completed the dive as perfectly as Mohinder had.

"I think I get how it works now. You're a fantastic teacher," he said, when he swam up to where Mohinder was bobbing and smiling. "Want to get a drink at the pool bar? It's my treat for taking the time to help me out."

"You don't have to do that, but a drink would be nice." Mohinder called out to Elle. "I'll be back in a little while."

"Get me a daiquiri on your way back?"

"Of course."

Mohinder and his new friend doggie-paddled over to the pool bar and sat on two submerged barstools. The stranger ordered two beers.

"That your girlfriend?" the man asked.

Mohinder looked over at his gorgeous blonde roommate with the chic sunglasses and Ursula Andress white bikini. "No."

"Yeah, she doesn't really seem like your type," the man said unexpectedly, and almost illogically, given the circumstances.

Mohinder did a double take. "I wouldn't say that… it's just… How would you know?" he asked rudely after trailing off. Feeling bad, he continued, "Sorry, it's just complicated. What's your name?"

"Gabriel," the young man replied.

"I'm Mohinder. It's nice to meet you." They exchanged a wet handshake. Mohinder lost himself for a moment in the other man's big brown eyes, but then took a sidelong glance back at Elle. He looked confused as they fell into conversation.

*********************************************************

"It's astounding, Elle," Mohinder mused as they were leaving their room to go to dinner later that evening. "There are so many fantastic people in this hotel and on this island. I keep striking up really pleasant conversations with strangers. It's something I almost never do. I don't usually connect with people very well, but here, I'm finding it surprisingly easy. We really got lucky with the clientele."

"I think it's because you're finally loosening up a bit. The beach will do that to you. Speaking of which, though… your new best friend, you know, Gabriel the diving guy… Don't you think he kind of looks like…?"

"Yes," Mohinder said stonily.

"Less gangly, though," Elle continued. "Not quite enough eyebrow. Like a better-looking version of Sylar."

"Oh, I don't know…"

"I think he liked watching you dive." Elle winked at Mohinder.

"Well, of course he did. I was teaching him how." Mohinder retorted brusquely, but he blushed all the same.

Mr. Gray, the old gentleman with whom they shared the taxi a few days before, also exited his room. The young people gave a friendly wave, and he smiled at them.

"There are other reasons for someone to like watching you dive, just fyi." Elle continued mischievously and discharged a tiny bolt of lightning in Mohinder's ribs as soon as the old man was ahead of them. Mohinder yelled, and looked sheepishly at Mr. Gray who turned around to investigate the noise.

"How dare you?!" he whispered savagely. But he couldn't help himself, and ended up just laughing. As she started to babble about something else, Mohinder stared at her quietly in a way that he hadn't seemed to let himself before.

*********************************************************

"Hello! I was worried you had left us." Mohinder had jogged to catch up with their French acquaintance from the first day who had lent him the book Sylar had quoted on the day they met.

The man smiled warmly at Mohinder. "Ah, the Indian man who is afraid to disrobe in public. Where is the beautiful woman you are not on honeymoon with?"

"Just grabbing something she forgot from the room. She'll be down in a minute," Mohinder said with a laugh.

"Have you finished the book?"

"Yes, yesterday. It was fascinating. Thank you so much for lending it to me. What's your room number? I can ask a porter to send it over to you."

The Frenchman faltered for a moment. "522. Yes. But please don't. I told you to consider it a gift. What did you think? Have your peak experiences made you feel very tiny or very large?"

Mohinder gaped at him. "Do you know, the person who first mentioned the book to me described it in exactly that way. It's uncanny. Anyway, I've been trying to remember some of mine."

The Frenchman smiled. He gestured to a low railing. "Let's sit and talk until she comes."

"I don't think I've had many, but they definitely made me feel tiny, I'm sure," Mohinder continued as he sat. "So far I've only thought of a few that I am certain qualify."

"What were they?" the man asked quickly.

"I watched a man sacrifice himself for his brother, and for a lot of people. I've never thought it was possible to love someone that much. I think I walked around in a daze for a whole week after that, trying to make sense of it all, the enormity of the whole situation. I actually made a lot of huge decisions that week, and somehow rearranged my entire life. I found some new purposes to take the place of others that seemed… to have… died." Mohinder trailed off.

"Only seemed?" the Frenchman probed.

"Yes, as it turned out," Mohinder said quietly. Then he looked up, anger hardening his face. "I wish they had stayed dead."

"Really?"

Mohinder nodded slowly.

The man pursed his lips and looked slightly upset, but repressed it and rearranged his features back into a pleasant expression. "That sounds… beautiful, about the brothers. What was the second one?" he asked.

"The first time I saved someone's life. It's really complicated and I won't bore you with the details, but it turns out that I'm uniquely able to help very specific people with a very specific problem. The first time was a sick little girl, and I remember the moment I discovered that I could help her. Again, a moment in which I found a purpose."

"Oh, are you a doctor? I thought your friend mentioned the other day that you were a scientist."

"Yes, that's right. Good memory." Mohinder smiled. "But as I said, it's complicated and not all that interesting."

The Frenchman let it go. "Any others you thought of?"

Mohinder got a faraway and sad smile on his face. "Definitely. One of the biggest. But…" He looked up as if only just now remembering that the man was a perfect stranger. "It's by far the most personal and hardest to explain."

"Tell me whatever you feel comfortable sharing," was the quiet and expectant reply.

Mohinder took a deep breath. "I met someone once and watched him do something rather extraordinary. The first time I had ever seen that particular sort of extraordinary thing. Actually, it was person recommended the book to me---about two minutes before he did it, in fact. I think that's why I'm not completely sure what I think of the book. Both because of him and my own personal experience. Peak experiences don't always lead to or stem from good things. I now have an idea of what his list of peak experiences consist of, and they're horrific. And as for me, well, the excitement would make anyone forget to rationalize. My instincts aren't very good… about people… I need to rationalize."

"Maybe it wasn't good, but it was important, wasn't it? Experiences aren't always so black and white." There was a pleading quality to his voice that he tried to keep in check. Trying to draw more information out of Mohinder, the man added, "Do you think experiencing something so complicated was somehow beneficial for you in the end? Were there at least some positive or beautiful things or feelings or memories that you took away? Anything that ended up being good for you?"

Mohinder contemplated this. "I suppose so. Actually, yes, definitely. It made me stronger." He stood up as he saw Elle coming towards them. "Here she is. We're going to get lunch. Thanks again for the book, and the chat. It was truly illuminating."

Elle waved hello to them both and with a grin, took the arm Mohinder was offering her in a gentlemanly way. They started to walk towards the hotel café.

"By the way," Mohinder turned around to add a parting compliment. "Your English is spectacular."

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

Mohinder and Elle were about halfway through lunch when their elderly neighbor sat down alone at a table on the other side of the café. He smiled at the waitress, who immediately came over and handed him a menu, but he was more intent on focusing on the particular conversation he wanted to hear than listening to the daily specials. He ordered only a coffee.

"I can't believe I haven't gotten sick of you yet."

"You're so sweet," Elle replied, actually looking hurt under the sarcasm.

Mohinder started as he realized what that had sounded like. "That came out wrong."

"Yeah, it did. But I'm starting to get used to it," she said.

"I know… sorry. I actually meant that as a compliment. We're so different, which makes it even more surprising, but… I can't think of many people I've spent all day with for multiple days without wanting to kill. Just you, Molly, and … wait, no, I _did_ want to kill…" Mohinder trailed off. "Anyhow, I know I complained about coming here, but I'm starting to realize that maybe I _did_ need a vacation. From my life. It's wholly unnecessary, undeserved, overly lavish, and at the worst possible time but---"

"You're welcome," Elle finished for him. Then she became strangely hesitant. "And… you, too. This is fun," she said.

They smiled awkwardly at one another for a second, and then poked at their food.

"If my mother knew where I was right now, on vacation, sharing a room with some girl…" Mohinder mused. "I'd get an earful."

Elle looked at him in astonishment. "But you're 29! You still have to answer to your mother? I'm only 24, but my dad wouldn't care."

Mohinder put his fork down and looked at her intently. "Can you honestly tell me your dad both knows about and is okay with us sharing a room?"

Elle sighed. "Let's stop pretending, Mohinder. He doesn't give a shit. About me. About you. About my precious virtue. He'd have us both killed in a minute if there was half a reason."

"I know," Mohinder admitted quietly.

"You do?" Elle was visibly stunned. She had obviously expected a different reaction.

Mohinder took a deep breath. "Yes, I've wanted to talk about it for some time, but I wasn't sure how you would take it. And I wasn't completely sure I could trust you until… until this week. But especially now that I know you also have reservations. I've been desperate for a way to get out of this situation with the company. Ever since finding out about how they actually manufactured a virus from my sister, resuscitated Sylar, had Nathan shot, the wool has fallen from my eyes. And now you admit that you have your misgivings as well. I've read your file---"

"You have it? That's where it went?" Elle was breathless. "Bennet told me some awful stuff that I don't remember. I tried looking to see if it was true, but I couldn't find it."

"I don't know what he told you, but it can't be worse than the things I've read. I want to get out. I need to get out of New York. Molly and Matt have gone into hiding---they didn't even tell me where, in case Sylar tried to get it out of me---so I don't have to worry about them. I have family money tucked away. I can do my research anywhere, under a different name, perhaps. The only person I've been worrying about is you. I want to help. Unless there's someone else you could go to…?"

"Nope," she replied sadly.

"We have awhile until we're expected back in New York. Just think about it and we can talk about it whenever you're ready. In the meantime, let's get the most out of this obscenely expensive yet free vacation."

Elle looked at him hopefully. "Wow, thanks. No one's ever… You actually like me, don't you?"

"I didn't know there was any doubt," Mohinder laughed, and then looked at her very seriously. "We've come a long way from that day in California, haven't we?"

They were quiet for a long time.

When they had finished eating, Mohinder signed the bill and Elle picked up her beach bag. As they exited the café and started strolling down the garden path, Elle asked, "So, same as usual this afternoon? Should we find some chairs and lay out? Maybe by the beach instead of by the pool today? Mix it up a little?"

"Sure, that sounds fine," Mohinder replied, and they continued down the path leading to their favorite part of the beach. A few seconds after they walked past the activities hut, he stopped short and thought for a split second. Then he grabbed Elle around the waist, scooping her alongside him as he turned around and approached the man at the hut window. He glanced over the options on the board and said, "Hi there. Do you have any horse-back riding today?"

"Yes sir, we have a trail ride leaving in about ten minutes. You can see everyone gathering to meet up at the van over there." The man pointed farther down the beach. "I can sign you up, if you don't mind leaving now."

Mohinder turned to Elle. "What do you think?" he asked with a shrug.

Elle looked startled, but excited. "Yeah! I love horses. We'll do it," she said to the attendant.

"Excellent," he replied. "I just need you to fill out these waivers and forms."

"I didn't know you rode," Elle remarked while they did the paperwork.

Without looking up, Mohinder replied, "I'm not very experienced, but I thought it would be nice to do something together, even though you can't join me in the water activities. I saw the poster out of the corner of my eye just now and remembered that you said you used to ride."

Elle was astonished. "Wow, you remembered that? I told you that like a month ago."

Having finished his form, Mohinder looked up and winked. "Well, I'm fully prepared to make a fool of myself today, for your amusement."

"How is that different from any other day?" she joked. Mohinder gave her the evil eye.

The attendant gathered the documents together unemotionally, like a man accustomed to honeymooners. "You're all set. Just head over there and all the equipment will be provided."

"Thanks," they replied, and jogged over to the van where eight other guests had already gathered.

The Frenchman, who had been walking quietly behind them, now approached the attendant. "Is there any room left on the riding trip?"

The attendant shook his head apologetically. "I'm so sorry, sir. It only accommodates ten, and I just signed up the last two. I can reserve you a spot for tomorrow, if you'd like."

"No, that won't be necessary." He walked away, scowling in fury. Although he'd been terminally frustrated by the fact that Mohinder and Elle never separated long enough or conveniently enough for him to be able to target her, so far it had been fairly easy to keep tabs on them the majority of the time. This was due mostly to his understanding of Mohinder's steady and predictable nature. This was the first time they had eluded him. What was Mohinder doing, suddenly getting all spontaneous?

Squinting in the direction Mohinder and Elle had gone, he could see that driver was already there, all the other guests were already there---there was no way to infiltrate the group. Maybe it was just as well. The trip would hardly afford him a chance to catch the girl alone. Plus, he had never liked horses. They creeped him out. And what could possibly happen between those two in just a few hours that wasn't worth missing?

*********************************************************

The only way in which life's ironies are actually ironic is in a meta way. Meaning, they're ironic because of their utter lack of irony or surprise.

It was a sun burnt seven hours later when Sylar spotted Mohinder and Elle walking up to the outdoor bar area, both clad in matching white linen. Their hair was still wet from their requisite post-horse showers. However, for the first time, one might honestly have wondered if they had taken that shower together. They were holding hands and laughing easily. Mohinder radiated a confident and jovial demeanor that Sylar hadn't seen since their days on the road, while she looked at the floor and wore a permanent red blush. For all her odd flirty behavior, Elle's utter inexperience showed the second things went further than she was used to. To actually have someone treat her like this had broken her control.

Didn't Mohinder see that? It was obvious to Sylar who only knew her through watching her for the past few days. Or did he simply not care? Then again, Mohinder had been just as accepting and supportive of Sylar's lack of experience. Maybe Mohinder was just like that with everyone.

That was the most depressing thought of all. At any rate, this had to be stopped.

After a moment's careful weighing of options, he stalked off to the bathroom on the east side of the pool under his French disguise. He waited for the little boy at the urinal to leave, and a couple of minutes later, Gabriel from the previous day at the diving board emerged, fully and chicly dressed. Elle, who was achieving an admittedly impressive cross-legged pose atop a barstool while wearing a skirt, saw him and waved. Mohinder turned around, and his face lit up at the approach of his new acquaintance from the day before. That, at least, was gratifying.

"Hi guys."

"It's great to see you again," Mohinder said. Remembering his manners, he continued, "I don't think you two were properly introduced yesterday. Gabriel, this is Elle. Elle, this is Gabriel."

Elle offered him a condensation-wet hand. "Hey," she said with a snotty tilt of the head. "Yeah, I saw you in the pool yesterday. Nice trunks." She raised her eyebrows as her eyes dropped to the upper portion of Gabriel's pants. Gabriel turned a bit pink, and noticed that Mohinder looked at her with more jealousy in the mix than irritation.

"What?" she asked in response to Mohinder's glare before turning her attention back to Gabriel. "We were just saying yesterday how much you look like someone we know. It's crazy. Anyway. So, what are you up to? I keep seeing you by yourself. Didn't you come with a girlfriend or something?"

It was all Sylar could do not strike her, physically, even. "I'm a guest for a wedding at another hotel. It isn't for a couple of days, but I figured I could use a vacation beforehand," he stated coldly.

"I think that's a very good idea," Mohinder interjected with enthusiastic sincerity, as he tried to get things back on track.

All of this was slightly stressful for Sylar, who wasn't used to this much casual social interaction. From what he knew of Elle, she wasn't accustomed to it either; hence, this strange encounter that needed mediation by Mohinder, himself not the most socially graceful creature on the planet. But Elle wasn't going to sit quietly to let the men have a chat.

"What did you need a vacation from? What's your job?" Sylar couldn't tell if he was perceiving everything she said as antagonistic because she didn't know how she came off, or if she was threatened by him (hopefully), or if he was simply projecting his own antagonism. Whichever it was, he just wanted her to go away. But Mohinder was resting a hand on her shoulder while still looking at him with bright interested eyes. These were mixed messages.

"I don't really have one. I have the ability not to have to work for my living, something I'm very appreciative of."

"Oh!" Elle exclaimed, as she grabbed Mohinder's hand and nodded excitedly. "Us, too. Isn't it great?"

Now it was Mohinder's turn to blush, and Sylar smiled inside. He had always remembered Mohinder's drive to work, never wanting to rely on family money. He had been almost secretive about it back when they had known one another.

"But we still work," Mohinder explained in a rush.

"Yeah, you mentioned to me yesterday that you were a geneticist. So I guess that makes Elle your…"

"Partner in crime," she finished for him, and winked roguishly.

Mohinder laughed. "That's an apt description, I would say. What did you do with yourself all day, Gabriel? We went for a horseback ride, which was a fantastic change."

"Mohinder couldn't stop his horse from eating grass," Elle snickered.

"At least I didn't fall off. _Twice_," Mohinder countered.

"I just sat around and read," Gabriel said, reminding both of them that he had been asked a question.

"Oh yeah, what?" Elle asked.

Sylar looked deeply into Mohinder's eyes as he thought for a second. "A genetics book, as it so happens. But a really strange one."

A look of 'oh no, is this going where I think it's going' took over Mohinder's features. Even Elle caught on and held Mohinder's hand, looking at Gabriel with new and narrowed eyes. "Really? What?" they both asked.

"Some book about by this Indian guy. I guess Suresh must be a common name. A Chandra Suresh. A friend lent it to me. It's all about this theory that people could have superpowers. Like in comic books."

"And what did you think of that?" Mohinder asked with forced calm.

Sylar hesitated on how to play this. On the one hand, he hated what he perceived to be his disguise's inferiority to Elle's reality: Elle had an ability and Sylar so far had not been able to prove his increased attractiveness by being able to display his own. But then again, the disguise he had picked for experimental purposes was close enough to his regular appearance that having an ability might cause suspicion. As he glanced towards Elle, Sylar saw wariness in her blue eyes as she silently dissected him. She could be a silly girl, but suddenly the truth that she was no fool struck him forcibly. She could have known the illusionist, and might put it together.

"I'm reading it as a joke book. I mean, people who can fly and stuff? It's ludicrous, right? But this guy tried really hard to make his case," he finally replied. Sylar watched as Mohinder and Elle exchanged a look. He could tell Mohinder was girding up for one of his quintessential monologues or else a vaguely worded offer of help, but something about Elle's warning hand on his hip stopped him. He took a deep breath, and Sylar could almost see the mental processes that were repressing his desire to make revelations.

"I've read that one," he said simply and non-committally. "It's very interesting. If you ever want to talk about it one day, I'm sure you'll have no compunction about giving me call. It's an interesting topic. I have to admit, I'm quite familiar with those theories. But let's talk about something else. We're on vacation." Mohinder smiled.

*********************************************************

Sitting in his room across the hall later that evening, Sylar tuned into what was going on in Mohinder's suite. Sylar hadn't been inside, but from the pictures on the hotel website, he knew that it consisted of a living room, a bedroom, and a private pool. He had found that Mohinder and Elle were generally much less chatty in their room than they were when outside. In the mornings, and during their brief visits to the room in the middle of each day to shower and change, their conversations up to now had been very practical and to the point. Mohinder's discomfort at finding himself sharing a room had been apparent when they checked in, but what was more surprising was how nervous she actually was about it. The bathroom door opened and shut a lot, and there were many calls of "Don't look!" shouted between the rooms, on both their parts. Strange, given that they spent most of every day half-naked outside.

On their first night, they were already asleep by the time Sylar took the following water taxi back from the night club. However, on the second night, they had watched a movie together after a long and boozy dinner, but Sylar couldn't be sure if they had been on the couch or on one or two beds. He wondered if tonight would be any different, given the annoyingly increased intimacy he had seen before Elle had finally gotten the hint and excused herself to play shuffleboard, leaving the two men to talk more about science, philosophies, New York, and India. Despite the disappointments of the day, Sylar triumphed in the feeling that he had made a lot of headway. Mohinder had looked decidedly confused and even slightly disappointed when leaving him to meet Elle for dinner, and there had been a hint of something repressed rising to the surface towards the end of their conversation.

"That guy's really nice," Elle was saying.

"Mmmhmm," Mohinder mumbled as the bed creaked under what sounded like his weight.

"So, what do you say? Order room service ice cream and watch a movie? I'll let you pick," Elle sing-songed as she joined him on the bed.

The distraction was slowly leaving Mohinder's voice. "That sounds nice."

Then there were disgusting kissy noises. It was official. In a rage, Sylar closed his eyes in concentration, focusing on an object he couldn't see, but the placement of which he could reasonably guess. There was the satisfying crash of a lamp in their room breaking, apparently without reason.

"What the hell?" Mohinder asked in a panic.

"No idea," Elle responded. But the privileged tone of a girl to whom this sort of thing never happens crept into her voice. "I'm calling the manager. This is completely unacceptable."

*********************************************************

"What are we doing here?" Elle asked.

The pool area was deserted except for the two of them and a young child who was mysteriously unchaperoned. It was after dinner and everyone was at the weekly late-night dance party on the beach. Sylar had spent much of the afternoon in the pool with Mohinder, but had bristled at being politely dismissed for all mealtimes. The girl remained completely clueless that 'Gabriel' might be in any way a rival. Infuriating.

"I'm going to teach you how to swim," Mohinder stated. He swayed just a little bit and sat down cross-legged on the edge of the shallow side of the pool.

"How?" she asked incredulously.

"Just take your clothes off," he ordered.

Elle's eyebrows shot up. "That's surprisingly forward of you, doctor." In contrast to her confident, mocking tone, she looked around nervously. "But… are we allowed? The lifeguard isn't around."

"Since when have you cared about details like lifeguards? Don't worry. I'm a good swimmer. Plus, you can't drown in four feet of water." Mohinder hiccupped.

"Great. Electric girl is being made to learn how to swim by a drunk scientist. This is a good idea. Right," she said sarcastically.

"I'm not actually as drunk as I seem," Mohinder replied with a dashing grin. "Go on. Get in."

He untied the string on her wrap dress, and she eased it off to reveal just her underwear, which looked just like a bikini, if only slightly more see-through. She stood at the top of the pool stairs and dipped a toe in. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I'm going to coach you from here. Trust me." He pulled some rubber gloves out of his pants pocket. "See?" he asked proudly.

Elle shrugged her shoulders. "How romantic," she snarked, but looked understanding nonetheless.

The little boy on the other side of the pool watched quietly as Mohinder held Elle's hands at the edge of the pool and taught her how to do backstroke kicks in place.

Once she had mastered that, Mohinder suggested that she try kicking across the pool.

"Can I have one of those floaty things?" she asked with fear in her voice.

Mohinder looked up. "Hello, there!" he called to the little boy. "Could you please pass me a floatation device?"

The child scowled for a second but approached Mohinder with a foam spaghetti. Even after Mohinder thanked him, he remained standing next to Mohinder, looking hatefully at Elle in the pool.

"Even I don't need one of those. Especially in the shallow end," he told Elle.

Mohinder shot him a questioning look. "Don't tease her. She's just learning."

"She's kind of old to be just learning, don't you think?" The child was relentless.

Standing in the middle of the pool, Elle glared at the kid and reached out with her hand.

"Elle!" Mohinder yelled in a warning voice.

"I wasn't going to," she grumbled, and straddled the spaghetti in preparation to try a doggie paddle. Suddenly her hands flew to her throat. "Ow!" She started thrashing around, and her eyes widened in terror as her breath started to come out in short and increasingly infrequent gasps.

"What's wrong?" Mohinder asked worriedly. He moved to get in, but then thought better of it. He looked around him in panic. The child just watched impassively.

Unable to answer, Elle flailed more and more violently and started to go under. Finally, Mohinder couldn't take it anymore, and resorted to one of his characteristically brave but dumb ideas. The kid shouted "No!" as Mohinder jumped in. Even drowning Elle shook her head in terror. While Mohinder was still in midair, Elle found herself able to breathe again, but the panic didn't wear off immediately. Mohinder dragged her back to the edge of the pool and out to dry land. After a few seconds, she started breathing again. The child walked away without a word and disappeared into the shrubbery.

"What happened?"Mohinder asked in distress as he patted her down.

"I just suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe." Her hands were still at her throat, as if the pressure might return at any moment.

"Your head was out of the water. You weren't drowning. It's psychosomatic," Mohinder explained gently. "I feel terrible for making you do something that obviously frightens you so much."

Elle shook her head. "No, not like drowning. And I honestly wasn't that scared. This was different. It was like someone was choking me. I could almost feel the hands around my neck. Weird." Elle sighed. "Can we call it a night?" she asked, still shaken.

"Of course." She put her clothes back on with trembling hands. As soon as she was ready, he put his arms around her.

"I'm sorry that happened. I shouldn't have---"

She interrupted him. "No, it was great. Thanks for the lesson, professor. Let's try again tomorrow. You know, you're cute when you teach things," she concluded with a valiant effort at a bright smile.

They walked back to their room, hand in hand.

"That kid was creepy," Elle said.

"I don't know. Children who are left to roam by themselves like that usually lack proper parental attention," Mohinder posited.

Something struck Elle halfway back to the room. "I could have killed you in the water. I was definitely freaked out enough to do it unintentionally. No one's ever done anything like that for me before. Thank you." She got on her tiptoes and kissed him. Mohinder mumbled protestations.

"I suppose that makes us even," he said, trying to shrug it off.

She seemed to instinctively know what he was talking about. "Nah, Sylar wasn't going to kill you that day."

"How do you know?" Mohinder asked.

"I could just tell."


	3. Chapter 3

"40-Love. Match point."

Sylar braced himself as Mohinder bounced the ball before beginning what was sure to be yet another magnificent serve. He couldn't take it anymore. Even at the expense of blowing his cover, he couldn't stand to lose like this, with zero points. Mohinder elegantly contorted himself and tossed the tennis ball into the air. It came careening towards Sylar's side of the court at what must have been 90 miles an hour. He made a vague motion towards it, but was really concentrating on telekinetically curving the arch of the ball so that it went just outside the fault line.

"That's the second fault for you," he said.

Mohinder looked at the fault line and then at his racket in slight confusion as he walked over to the other half of his side and bounced the next ball. "40-15. Match point," he called out.

This time, Sylar didn't even bother. He was really only in this for the amicable break time that would follow the match, so he let Mohinder ace him yet again. He had never liked this stupid game, but for the past couple of days had spent his mornings getting up earlier than he would have preferred, putting on silly white clothes, and getting all sweaty in order to take tennis lessons with Mohinder, who had jumped at the chance to teach his new friend how to play. Elle wasn't in the least bit interested in the game, and apparently Mohinder was desperate enough for time on the court that he was willing to play with someone whose skills were so far beneath his own. Sylar wanted to take this to mean that Mohinder was actually interested in _him_.

This was somewhat proven by the joyous way in which Mohinder jumped over the net and came over to give him a warm pat on the back.

"I know the score was pretty rough, Gabriel, but trust me when I say I've seen huge improvement in your game over the past few mornings. You still need to work on your serve, but your backhand was much stronger today." Mohinder's giant white smile was almost as bright as his tennis outfit, and looked absolutely perfect against his now even more tanned skin.

Mohinder flopped down on a bench and grabbed two bottles of water from underneath where the staff usually kept them. He passed one to Gabriel, who slumped down next to him, just a little too close. Mohinder stiffened, but didn't move away.

"This isn't really my sport, but you make it enjoyable. Now, if only I could get you to come sailing with me."

Mohinder perked up. "Sailing? You've never mentioned that. I'd love to learn."

"Let's go later today, then. We can take out one of the catamarans and I'll show you the basics. I feel the need to repay you somehow for the lessons. It's very kind of you to take so much time out to help me."

Mohinder beamed. "It's all my pleasure. I haven't had a chance to play in over a year."

"You don't play like someone who's out of practice," Sylar said between sips of water.

"It's the kind of skill that never completely goes away. I'm sure you understand. You must have played sports as a child." Mohinder was always quite adorable after a game, with his adrenaline up and a healthy flush on his cheeks.

"Not really. I've never been much of an athlete. Gym class was about the extent of it." Painful memories flitted through Sylar's brain, but he kept them to himself.

Mohinder looked him up and down with disbelief in his eyes. "But you're so tall and fit."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting with me," Sylar teased, pushing against the other man with his arm.

Whatever Mohinder might have responded to that was interrupted by a distant shout of, "Yoohoo! Mohinder!"

Both men looked around. Up the hill, by the tennis club, Elle was standing in a little sundress and waving a handkerchief at them.

Sylar raged inside as he watched Mohinder forget present company for a second and break into a grin at the sight of her. But as soon as he turned to look back at Gabriel his face just as quickly transformed into a look of consternation. "I have to go."

Sylar reached out and grabbed Mohinder by the elbow, pulling him just an inch closer. "Are you sure? I was hoping we could play another match."

Mohinder looked stricken, glancing guiltily between his elbow and Elle up on the hill. "I'm sorry. In any other case I would have stayed, but we have an appointment."

"For what?" he asked, even though he had listened to Elle calling reception the previous day. He knew he had cornered Mohinder, because the truth was horrifically embarrassing. He waited in amusement for the reveal he knew was coming.

"We… we have a couples massage scheduled. I need to take a shower before we go," Mohinder sulked, and Sylar laughed.

"Couples massage?" Sylar made his voice suitably denigrating.

"I know. I know." Mohinder looked mortified, quite rightly.

But Sylar was relentless. "Just a few days ago, you were telling me that there was nothing going on, and now you're what? Whipped! Couples massage, really."

Mohinder became defensive. "It isn't like that, I swear. It was the one thing she really wanted to do. And she humoured me yesterday by coming golfing. I owe her."

Sylar remembered that. It had been sickening following them, remaining always one hole behind, and watching Mohinder curl around her, holding her as he taught her how to putt. All of her balls went into sand traps.

"But it's my last day," Sylar whined. He actually had no timetable, but this seemed like a good time to put some pressure on the situation. Taking things slow and easy had had some success, evidenced by the distress Mohinder now displayed. It was gratifying to see how flustered Mohinder became at this news. However, enough was enough and he found himself deciding that today was the day he would end this, one way or another---preferably both.

His hopes were slightly raised to see Mohinder look openly fretful. "Is it really? I thought we were all leaving the day after tomorrow. I was hoping you would share a taxi to the airport with us. I've been meaning to ask you what flight you're taking."

"I'm supposed to leave early tomorrow morning. Unless…"

"Unless what?" Mohinder asked hopefully, but with a touch more guilty nervousness as he looked back up the hill at Elle, who was now tapping her foot in impatience.

"Unless I think of a reason to stay," Sylar murmured, just low enough to be heard.

Mohinder froze for a second, then stood up. "I have to go," he repeated tonelessly.

Sylar wondered if he had overdone it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have---"

"No, it's ok."

Sylar made a last-ditch effort to quell this awkwardness. "I'd like to still be on for sailing later, if you aren't busy."

"Maybe. I'll see. Bye!" Mohinder sprinted up the hill towards Elle. Sylar watched as Mohinder motioned to kiss her hello, only to be swatted away with a cry of, "Ew! You're so sweaty!" followed by Mohinder cackling evilly before smothering her in a bear hug. He briefly glanced back down the hill as he took her arm. But then he shook his head and kissed her again as they walked off, all thoughts of Gabriel clearly banished as he relaxed and listened to her launch into some bizarre story about some new drink the bartender had created for her. Damn the man, he actually seemed riveted. Damn both of them.

*********************************************************

Mohinder leaned back into his chair, visibly more relaxed than he had ever looked. His limbs were absolutely floppy. He looked up at the waiter. "We'll have two orders of shrimp fajitas, please."

"Yes, sir," the waiter replied, and glided away. As soon as he was gone, Elle jumped to attention.

"We should do it."

Although it was a complete nonsequitor, not even Mohinder could pretend not to know what she meant. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish a few times before responding. "That's rather fast, don't you think? And especially when you put it like that…" He grimaced.

Elle countered with, "We've spent most of the past two months together. How much more time do you want?"

"Yes, but only for the past few days have we had anything more than a working relationship." Mohinder reached over and took her hand to soften his words. "I have to admit, Elle, I'm really glad that we're… you know, but you're so innocent and it sometimes makes me feel a bit guilty..."

She scowled in irritation. "Oh, I know where _this_ is going. I'm not a little girl, you know. I'm not that much younger than you."

"It isn't the age so much… it's more the experience."

Elle sighed in exasperation. "But that's exactly the problem. If everyone takes that attitude, I'll still be a virgin at thirty. Look, someone's gotta do it _sometime_."

Mohinder leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms as he looked at her. "You make me feel so special. Really, you do."

She didn't back down. "Oh, please. I've basically been throwing myself at you since minute go."

"Exactly," he replied quietly. "I've heard I'm hardly the first."

She flushed with anger as she understood what he was referencing. "Peter. That… _ugh_. I'm gonna… I really wish he'd never met a regenerator." She calmed herself down. "That was different."

"Oh really? I don't see how."

"I'm not your jailor. You don't have to be here with me. Well, ok, maybe you do, but not in the same way. You seem to actually enjoy hanging out with me. Unless you're faking it. Are you faking?" She looked suddenly vulnerable.

"No," Mohinder replied simply, and smiled.

She continued to babble, not understanding from the look on Mohinder's face that her nervousness had already worked to reassure him. Sylar bristled; if he could tell that for all the other side of the restaurant, how could she be with him and not see that yet?

"Well, good," she continued. "And honestly, you could leave if you really wanted to. I'm not… I'm not trying to control you. It's not like them. I think we actually know each other." Elle got quiet again. "Unless I just wore you down. That isn't what happened, right?"

"I don't wear down," Mohinder stated firmly. "I just needed to check that this isn't about you being confused because I'm the only man you know."

Elle sighed contentedly, having finally gotten him to tell her she'd been trying to hear all week---and really, for the past two months. "I know it seems like that. But with you it's different. I know I talk a lot about how hot you are, but I do like you, in a normal way. I always have. You've always been real with me." After this brief exposure of her insecurities, Elle snapped back to her usual defiance. "But really, I ought to be excused. You _are_ smoking hot."

"You, too," Mohinder replied. "You're slightly crazy, but that seems to be my type. Plus, you're honest. I suppose that's the draw for both of us here. And, as I told you before, other than Molly, you're the first person I've really gotten along with… and definitely the only person I've been involved with since…"

"Since what?" Elle asked. Across the pool, Sylar held his breath, desperate for the response.

"Since a long time," Mohinder sighed. "Just stay who you are, ok?"

"Sure, that's easy. Me's the only person I know how to be," Elle said cheerfully. There was a long pause before she spoke again. "Just to clarify, when you say 'you, too,' do you just mean I'm someone you get along with? Or 'you, too,' in that you also think I'm---"

"Smoking hot," Mohinder laughingly finished for her, and then eased out of his chair just enough to be able to lean over the table and kiss her.

The problem with extrasensory hearing is that moving farther away doesn't help. The only way to stop hearing something is to pointedly not listen to it. However, like a little kid whose tongue can't stop running over the open wound created by a newly missing tooth, for the past few days, Sylar had had a hard time forcing himself to tune out the painful sounds.


	4. Chapter 4

Sylar completed his tour of the catamaran and the various sailing concepts with a genuinely joyful smile. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you decided to come. I know you probably could have made other plans."

Mohinder was regarding him contemplatively. He stretched a toned leg out as he got into a more comfortable position on the catamaran. Their toes accidentally brushed, and even in the blinding sunlight, Sylar could tell that Mohinder blushed a bit. "I suppose I couldn't stay away," he said.

This was progress. "What do you mean?" Sylar asked tentatively.

Mohinder seemed to regret having said or thought that. "I mean, you said earlier that it was your last day. I couldn't turn down my only opportunity to learn how to sail."

Sylar thrilled inside. That wasn't what Mohinder had meant at all.

"How long have you been doing this?" Mohinder asked.

"Not long." And it was the truth. Of all the sports out there, sailing was one he could read a book about in an afternoon and figure out, thanks to his intuitive aptitude. It didn't require the kind of practice or team-building that other sports did. He'd taken his book and a boat out the afternoon before and experimented. By the end of the day, he'd made himself more than proficient.

"Well, you sail like a pro," Mohinder complimented with a wink.

The entire excursion had gone spectacularly well. After his couples massage with Elle, Mohinder had run down to the beach to meet his friend 'Gabriel' for one last afternoon. Elle had opted to get a facial as a way of passing the time. As Sylar's target walked back to the spa, leaving him with the irresistible yet powerless Mohinder, he realized that somewhere along the way he'd lost sight of his original goal. But the other man's smile and friendly pat on the shoulder were enough to make him forget all over again. Now they were huddled deliciously close on the small mesh sitting space of the catamaran, laughing and conversing easily about everything under the sun, and practically holding hands as Sylar tried showing Mohinder how to move the sail. Sylar realized he'd never been quite this happy. They were both shirtless and covered in sunblock, salt, and sweat. The sight and smell of Mohinder were more intoxicating than the mojitos they'd shared the night before. Mohinder seemed to be feeling it, too (or at least Sylar hoped), because he kept catching himself staring at Sylar and then quickly looking away. Sylar experimentally wrapped a leg around Mohinder as they sat with the ropes; on the one hand, he could have needed to position himself like that to manage the boat, but on the other, it was just a little too close.

Mohinder didn't budge.

"Wanna give turning a go?" Sylar asked with a shy smile.

"Ok, expert. Let's see how much I've learned in an hour," Mohinder replied, taking the rope in hand.

Mohinder did it completely wrong, and the boom swung around to smack him squarely on the forehead. He was thrown onto his back. Sylar was on him in less than a second, straddling him without even meaning to---practically lying on him, supported by only one knee and an elbow--- and peering into Mohinder's eyes at a distance of mere inches.

"Are you ok?" he asked worriedly, gripping and stroking Mohinder's head with his right hand while his left fixed the sail. His fingers trailed gently along Mohinder's hairline and through his curls.

Mohinder was still quite dazed but within a few seconds managed to produce a hesitant laugh. "Ow," he said, and his left hand came up to touch his forehead, meeting Sylar's hand in the process. Their fingers naturally and almost unconsciously intertwined.

Sylar felt a lump forming in his throat as their gaze deepened. He could see Mohinder losing himself in Sylar's eyes, and the rush of that knowledge was incomparable. After all these days of trying to ply Mohinder with cocktails, Sylar fleetingly thought to himself as he lowered his head and closed his eyes, all he'd really needed to do was get the man hit on the head.

He kissed Mohinder lightly, nipping at his chapped lips until his mouth opened and he felt Mohinder begin to slide his tongue out. Sylar moved the hand on Mohinder's forehead back and down, moving slowly down his neck, and massaging in small circles as he made his way down Mohinder's back.

Sylar let the rope slide out of his hand and flutter away. He'd checked a second ago if there were any boats nearby; the sailing had been clear for a large distance. Now he could grasp Mohinder with both hands and arms, laying flush on top of him, and intertwining his right leg with Mohinder's left.

Mohinder was still dazed from the impact, but responded, at first very hesitantly, but with increasing confidence. His hand ghosted above Sylar's lower back, finally landing so that his fingers nudged suggestively just inside Sylar's bathing suit waistband.

Sylar ground down onto the other man, feeling both of their growing hardnesses rub against each other. He moaned into Mohinder's mouth and moved his right hand between their bodies.

"Mohinder," Sylar pleaded softly, mouthing down Mohinder's neck. The entire week's anguished desire was flowing out of him now, and he found that he couldn't contain or control himself. He felt Mohinder buck involuntarily against him and whine with desire as his hand brushed against his tip through the fabric.

Finally completely alert, Mohinder stiffened at the touch and stopped kissing him back. "I can't do this," he gasped into Sylar still open and pressing mouth. "Please, let me up."

Sylar ignored the request and began semi-stroking him through the bathing suit. He could feel Mohinder begin to relax again as the sensation distracted him, but when Sylar found himself doing a weird thing he sometimes did---blowing a superpowered blast of cool air into his ear---Mohinder really jumped up.

Wide-eyed in horror and disbelief, he pushed Sylar off of him. "No!" he said firmly.

"What's wrong?" Sylar asked. He was still flushed and aroused, and refused to believe that he was going to be rejected after having worked so hard and come so far.

Mohinder was scrambling to the other end of the boat, as far away from the other man as he could get. "Everything. Absolutely everything. Oh god, this is a nightmare."

"Because of Elle?" Sylar asked. If she was the answer, he still wanted to believe that maybe not all was not lost.

Mohinder remained still for a moment and then slowly began to shake his head, looking even more frightened as he did so. "No, actually. I mean, yes, this is wrong because I'm with her and I shouldn't even be considering, but…"

"Is it me? Have I done something…?"

Mohinder was staring so hard that Sylar wondered if he was staring through him. "No. You… it has nothing to do with you at all. I'm sorry. I think I've been leading you on without meaning to. Making up for some--- It was horribly---" Mohinder's distraught explanation petered out into disjointed syllables.

"Is it the person you and Elle say I remind you guys of?"

Mohinder nodded.

"He was your ex, or something?" Sylar asked, with perfectly feigned hurt innocence.

Mohinder evasively replied, "Something like that…" and laughed manically. Sylar wondered for a second if the man was going to lose it. "Someone I should never ever have been interested in. I think I was using the resemblance to feel like it was him but not… because you're so sympathetic… and it was like him but a better person… I'm sorry. That wasn't fair to you. And then there's Elle and I'm really quite happy so I shouldn't still find myself thinking about…"

Sylar's heart both lurched with victory and sank with defeat. He wanted to say, 'I'm not him,' but even he didn't want to take the deception to that kind of blatant lie.

When nothing had been said, Mohinder continued, "Please, Gabriel, take us back to shore."

Still thinking there might be a way to salvage the situation, Sylar tried one more attempt at stalling. "We haven't finished our rental time yet. If we just go around this beach, we'll get to---"

"If you don't turn the boat around, I'm going to jump and swim to shore," Mohinder threatened in a panic. Sylar had seen Mohinder swim; it wasn't an empty threat.

Trying not to show his disappointment too much, Sylar began to maneuver the boat to get back to the beach. "Ok, ok. Don't freak out. We're going back, ok?" he snapped.

As Sylar steered the catamaran, he allowed himself a quick glance at Mohinder, who was hugging his knees to his chest and looking nervously at the shoreline---anywhere but at him.

They sailed back in silence. When they got closer to the beach and the water activities center (where they needed to return the boat), Sylar spied Elle waiting for them under a beach umbrella. She waved, and Mohinder practically bounded out of the boat, waving back. This seemed to help his composure return. He stood on shore for a second, collecting himself. Sylar shook the hand that was stiffly thrust at him, and made one last effort to smooth things over. "Look, Mohinder, can we talk about---"

"Well, thank you for taking me on the boat," Mohinder said with robotic politeness. "And this week has been great… getting to know you and everything. I hope you have a safe flight back tomorrow."

And he ran off. Sylar didn't need to listen to what Mohinder said to Elle as he tackled her on her beach chair to know that he'd lost---had hardly even been in the running. Mohinder had only been interested in him because he reminded him of Sylar---himself---and yet that was also why he had ultimately rejected him. It was a catch 22.

*********************************************************

The noise coming from the bedroom was incredibly loud. Anyone walking down the hallway would have heard repeated moans and gasps of "oh god, yes" and "Mohinder" in a female voice.

Luckily, there was no one in the hallway.

What couldn't be heard by normal ears were Mohinder's softer moans, small sighs, and the occasional gentle whisper of, "Are you alright? Is this ok?"

It had started almost an hour before, with their slightly tipsy return to their hotel room. Shy whisperings and pathetically earnest compliments accompanied frenzied kisses. The more their clothes rustled as they were discarded, the heavier their breathing had become. Then came a series of nervous, unfinished questions. "Have you ever---" and "I really want… Can I---" followed by "Does this feel---" increasing in aggression to "Oh god, please…" All to the accompaniment of mattress springs creaking and vocal but inarticulate affirmations of pleasure. Sylar felt a combination of fury and impotence as he found himself unable to think of a really good way to stop this. In fact, resignation had set in; this had been coming and he'd had his chance.

After being asked if she was ok three times and having murmured her assent to each, on the fourth, Elle stopped moaning and said in her regular, slightly contentious voice, "_Yes,_ I'm ok. Why do you keep asking?"

The rocking noises slowed down. Mohinder's broken reply came out as kindly as could be expected at such a moment. "Because you're making quite a racket. And it's making me worry that I'm hurting you. Well, more than it usually hurts."

There was a pause. "Oh. I thought I was supposed to make a lot of noise," she said in a very small voice.

Mohinder emitted a sweaty, rasping chuckle. "Of _course_ you did," he panted. Then there was the almost inaudible sound of him laying a wet and fervent kiss somewhere on her body. It must have been a good place, because she let out a pleasurably anguished series of whimpers. "It isn't true, though. You should only make as much noise as comes naturally. I don't want you to fake things you don't feel."

After that, the decibel levels dropped so far that only someone with extrasensory hearing could pick up through a closed door, a hallway, and another closed door. Listening closely, Sylar could now hear Mohinder moaning while she became rather quiet, letting out only soft gasps of surprise. Apparently, she naturally made hardly any noise at all. The head board hit the wall rhythmically, and the sheets rubbed against the mattress. It continued on like this until Elle suddenly exploded into a short series of confused 'oh''s. Then there was a zap, and Mohinder yelled out in pain. Elle apologized profusely. After he recovered, the rocking continued for awhile until Mohinder emitted a choked and almost anguished groan of release.

Sylar heard him collapse beside her. There was silence except for the sound of heavy breathing and moving around in the bed.

"I'm sorry again about that," Elle whispered, and then giggled.

"I should have expected it, actually. How do you feel?" Mohinder asked tentatively.

Sylar could hear Elle shift. He wondered how they were laying. "Okay, I think," she answered at last. "That was… both more and less than I thought it would be. Well, at least it's over with."

"What a ringing endorsement…" he said, sounding discouraged and disappointed behind the sarcasm.

"No, it was nice! Really. I didn't mean it like that… I'm sorry. I'm just feeling … I don't know." Elle sounded a little overwhelmed. All the habitual sarcasm and teasing had left her voice. Sylar forced himself to relax his muscles and control his rage. The ungrateful bitch didn't deserve her fucking luck.

"It's ok. I understand. It does get better, you know," Mohinder reassured her gently. "That is, if you want to do it again. I don't want to make you feel…" He trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

"I know. Don't worry."

"Good," Mohinder replied. The problem-solving tone of a scientist returned to his voice. "We should think of ways to handle the shocks, though, going forward."

Sylar couldn't believe this conversation. With him, Mohinder had been so passionate, so confident. And now here he was, so placid and rational, his voice betraying insecurity. And yet, he somehow seemed perfectly content. What was going on here?

*********************************************************

A few hours later, Sylar was awoken by soft noises. Mohinder was creeping out of the room. Sylar jumped up and peeked out of his door to see Mohinder sprinting around the corner of the hallway and out of sight. Sylar stood with a furrowed brow. What the hell was Mohinder doing?

He realized, however, that finally the opportunity he had waited a whole week for had come. This was as good as he would ever get, since the pair never seemed to separate, and were even less likely to after the night's newfound intimacy. Sylar crossed the hall to Mohinder's door. Using telekinesis, he got the latch to open and entered. He walked through the messy living room, into the bedroom, past one perfectly made bed, and stopped at the one Elle and Mohinder were sharing that night. Catching sight of her blonde tresses, Sylar flexed his index finger.

However, he found that he could only stand there paralyzed with his arm outstretched, staring. The dawn was just beginning to creep through the mostly closed curtains to make a thick stripe of light on the bed. A pale and ethereal haze illuminated the white sheets, the flowery bedspread, the pillow that still bore the imprint of Mohinder's face. The sheets on Mohinder's side of the bed were still rumpled together from the way Sylar remembered Mohinder always used to grab them in the night. Mohinder was an aggressive sleeper. An empty condom wrapper was on the nightstand. The girl lay nude and sprawled on a slight diagonal. Shifting slightly in her sleep, she moved her leg a little to encroach on Mohinder's newly abandoned half of the bed. Somehow, that one foot offended Sylar more than the rest of her put together.

He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. It didn't work. He continued to stand there in a daze. Why couldn't he do it? It was such a fantastic ability. He'd already seen it at work and understood its potential. She was sleeping. She wouldn't even know it was happening, and even if she did wake up, he could muffle the noise with the pillows and paralyze her so she couldn't take aim at him. It could be done so quickly. He would be out and gone by the time Mohinder returned from wherever he was to a pool of blood. Mohinder…

That was the problem. Now there was a person attached to it. Multiple people. Usually all he saw in his victims was an ability, but now in this girl he saw Mohinder. It was the same way he thought of Chandra these days, as nothing but his most unforgivable act in Mohinder's eyes. Sylar had killed the man's father. After a week of nauseating jealousy, was he going to kill Mohinder's girlfriend, too? If he hadn't waited, if he had killed her on the first day, he would have spared himself all this agony, and none of this would have been a problem. But his damn curiosity had gotten in the way. Now the line was blurred. Was he getting a new ability, or was he venting petty spleen, and ridding himself of a rival? If it was the latter, would killing her be a sign of weakness, and not simply his usual cold and detached power acquisition? Mohinder might certainly see it that way, and for some reason, the idea of Mohinder thinking of Sylar as weak terrified him more than anything.

After awhile spent standing there staring---how long had it been?---Sylar realized that he wasn't going to kill the girl. Not like this. What had Mohinder done to him? What was wrong with him? He _wanted_ to. He hadn't killed anyone since regaining his powers. Maya was missing, Nathan was dead, Peter Petrelli was more powerful than ever, Bennet had hidden his precious daughter away somewhere Sylar couldn't locate… the only lead he had was this chick. He _had_ to kill her. It was what he did. It was his purpose. It was the reason he had come to this island in the first place, until he had gotten distracted by Mohinder. As usual.

The door opened very quietly. Sometimes Sylar heard sounds without quite registering them. This was one of those times. There was a gasp and a quick scuffle as Mohinder ran to cover the girl's nudity with a sheet. Even in his daze, Sylar was surprised at Mohinder's kneejerk action. _That_ wasn't what this was about. Didn't Mohinder understand? Shouldn't he know better? Sylar's fears were confirmed. This was too rapidly becoming about something more than electricity.

Suddenly, Mohinder's hands were on his, and he was being pulled towards the door. Uncharacteristically, Sylar didn't protest. He momentarily entertained the wild notion that perhaps seeing him---the real him---like this had finally brought Mohinder back to his senses and ended this nightmare; Mohinder would be his once more.

"Typical," Mohinder muttered as he closed the door behind them and started dragging Sylar roughly down the hallway.

"What?" Sylar asked. As he came out of the daze, he wondered where Mohinder got the nerve. Finally alert, he really looked at Mohinder. The man was glowing---with the same damn glow he remembered from that night so many months ago… It made Sylar want to scream. Mohinder couldn't help the glow, but any bliss that would have been on his face had been replaced by fear and fury.

"Just typical," Mohinder repeated. "Most people who come back to their hotel rooms to find men ogling their naked companions worry about rape. I, on the other hand, have to worry that her brain is about to be removed." Now that they were away from the building and the room, Mohinder exploded. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Now that they were finally face to face---his _real_ face---and speaking, Sylar regained command of himself. "I should think it fairly obvious," he said with a cool smirk.

"If you touch a hair on her head…" Mohinder threatened.

"You should know by now that I'm not particularly interested in hair, Mohinder."

"You know what I mean."

Sylar leaned back and crossed his arms. "I see you've found someone new to save. Someone new to protect. All you want is another Zane, isn't it? Someone you can have trail around with you."

"Stop trying to twist this around to be all about you. It isn't," Mohinder snapped.

"I would say that a lot of your life is all about me, actually.

Mohinder couldn't quite deny these accusations. "That is all in the past now. You have nothing to do with my life anymore."

This was the time to drop the bombshell. "I'm devastated to see how little of an impression all our recent time together has made."

"What are you talking about? I know you find yourself fascinating, but I don't see how in five minutes you could have---"

Sylar shook his head. "No, I'm talking about your wonderful diving instruction, the wonderful tennis lessons, discussions of literature…" He trailed off dramatically.

Mohinder opened his mouth to reply but then paused for a beat. His eyes went wide in realization. "You… you…?" he asked, unable to quite form a sentence expressing such a fantastical idea.

"Yes," Sylar smugly replied. "All of them."

Mohinder looked like he was going to vomit. "That's fucking sick, even for you."

Now that they were together again, Sylar was relishing their old dynamic. He realized in a flash that, pleasant as the Gabriel act had been, _this_ is what he wanted, all along---maybe not the insults, but definitely the challenge. He refused to believe that Mohinder wasn't feeling it, too, so he got right to the point. "I've seen you two together. What the hell are you doing, Mohinder? She isn't right for you. She isn't---"

"---A pain in my ass, like you?" Mohinder finished for him.

Sylar opened his mouth to make a reply, but then shut it. What he had been about to say was in even poorer taste than usual. However, even without the verbalization, Mohinder blushed bright red. Since it was already out there, Sylar decided to go for it.

"Yes," he replied, with significance.

Mohinder stamped his feet wordlessly.

"You didn't say her name," Sylar continued.

"_Now_ what are you talking about?" Mohinder snapped.

"When you came. You didn't say her name. Back then you said mine," he hinted with triumph. Mohinder looked disgusted at the implied memory, but didn't flinch when Sylar leaned into his personal space.

"Not technically, _Sylar_," Mohinder rebuffed. After a moment he stormed, "I can't believe you listened… I can't believe any of this is happening. How dare you! How fucking dare you! As if what happened between us ever meant anything!"

"It meant something to you and you know it. You wanted me. More than you'll ever want her. You still want me, even now," Sylar whispered, leering over Mohinder until he was backed up flush against the hallway wall. Sylar could smell the scent of sweat and sex emanating off him; it simultaneously aroused and repulsed him.

"You're delusional." But Mohinder didn't draw away from Sylar. He started laughing, almost hysterically. "I refuse to believe that this is what this is about. You have the gall to come here, try to kill her, don't, and then act jealous? Jealous! What is it you really want?"

Sylar honestly didn't know anymore, but he felt that he had already exposed himself too much to Mohinder. He thought for a moment, and then the beautiful, delicious answer came to him. "Nothing."

Mohinder looked understandably suspicious. "Forgive me if I don't believe you."

As he set out to explain in the uniquely roundabout way he liked to use with Mohinder, Sylar steeled himself to deal with the pain that lay in store. But he knew deep down that this was the best way to turn a bad situation. He smiled before beginning. "Because I've always been concerned for your happiness, here's what I'll do. I'll leave her alone as long as the two of you are together."

"That's very---" Mohinder started. But then he stopped as the awful implication of what Sylar was saying hit him.

He continued smugly. "And I'll be watching you. And now you know how. I could be anyone. I could even be her."

Mohinder shuddered at the open suggestion that Sylar might take her place at any time, even when… Sylar snickered as he watched this possibility occur to Mohinder.

"I guess you'll never quite know, will you?" Sylar added before walking away.

Mohinder squinted in the early morning sunlight as he watched Sylar disappear around the corner and out of sight.

"He wouldn't," Sylar heard the other man whisper to himself, as he reached the concierge to call for a taxi.

And the thing is, Mohinder was right. Sylar wouldn't. After this week, he knew that the only way he wanted Mohinder was as himself. One day…

*********************************************************

"Fuck."

Mohinder slumped against the hallway wall with his head in his hands and his shopping lying next to him. His mind was too frazzled to piece anything together.

Sylar. The man seemed destined to poison everything good in his life for the rest of time. He'd destroyed his family by killing his father. He'd forced Mohinder to destroy the list. He'd destroyed Mohinder's attempts at domesticity in New York with Molly and Matt, since his return meant that they had to go into hiding for their own safety. And now here he was again, destroying the first relatively happy and _normal_ thing that had happened to Mohinder since the road trip of lies that first sent his life spiraling out of control and started this twisted, never-ending bond between them. Even in this faraway paradise, Sylar had been able to find him and pollute his first attempt at a relationship in since… well, since Mohinder had last misguidedly tried to have one with _him_. Would there ever be an escape?

What sickened Mohinder most was that he'd fallen for it, fallen for him. He'd been charmed by every single disguise and felt a 'connection.' He'd made friends and opened up to the man. All over again. What the hell was wrong with him? What the hell was wrong with _them_? It was the definition of dysfunction. The only saving grace had been Elle. Earlier that day, Mohinder hadn't wanted Sylar---at least, not enough. Mohinder tried to cling to this thought. If they were as fated as all that, he would have succumbed to Gabriel, right? Or had he not succumbed because Gabriel wasn't quite Sylar enough? Mohinder now knew that until Sylar was stopped for good, he'd be forever plagued by this uncertainty. Even scarier was the thought that maybe one day he would weaken and find out the answer. The thought of her was the only hope he had that maybe his destiny wasn't inexorably bound with Sylar's, despite the fact that by binding Mohinder to Elle in this awful way, he had also managed to strangely bind Mohinder to himself.

He heard a door open, and saw a small figure in white creep out. Enveloped in a too-large bathrobe and fluffy white slippers, Elle looked anxiously down the hallway and sighed in relief when she saw Mohinder in the shadows. Pulling at her already mussed hair, she asked, "Mohinder? What are you doing out here? Are… are you going somewhere?"

This uncharacteristic anxiety made her seem even tinier than usual. Mohinder felt a pang of horrific guilt as he imaged what she must have felt, waking up at such a moment, to find him missing. He knew what this must look like, especially given what she'd told him about every other man she'd ever been even remotely involved with. Mohinder pulled himself together and came over to hug her. "No, I'm just coming back."

"Oh, I thought… I thought maybe you were going to…" She let out a sigh of relief.

"God, no. I just ran out to the store to get…" Now feeling ridiculous about something that had seemed perfectly logical at the time---and still would have been a good idea, had his life been any less terrible---Mohinder took a box of condoms out of the shopping bag to show her. He found himself barely able to string a sentence together. "I was hoping to get back before you noticed. We only had the one, and I thought I should get some more just in case in the morning or some time later tomorrow… although I guess it's already today… I was trying to spare you any awkwardness, I suppose. I'm sorry I frightened you. Elle, I don't run away."

She smiled, looking perfectly reassured. It broke Mohinder's heart.

"I know. But don't disappear like that again, ok?" Trying to act like her normal self, she added, "You're my damsel in distress, remember? How am I supposed to protect you if you keep running off?"

"I won't," he replied vehemently. And he meant it. He hadn't felt worse about anything since… ugh, since the last time he'd seen the man and been deprived of the chance to save Niki's life. Another thing to add to the list of grievances.

Elle pulled him gently back into the room, where he kicked his shoes off and removed his hoodie. "I thought I heard voices a minute ago," she said.

Mohinder simply grunted in response. He looked at her, wondering what he should do and say. He couldn't tell her. At least, not right now, and definitely not about having found Sylar in the room staring like that. She was damaged enough. Maybe he'd say he found him in the hallway trying to get in. Yes, that would convey the danger without scarring her. But not now.

"Come on. Let's sleep in," he said, and hopped into the bed, pulling her in with him. "After that, I have some things to tell you. And then we should start making some plans."

In his gut, he knew it would be ok, at least for the rest of the day. After that, they'd have a lot to worry about. Maybe just for a little while longer, he could pretend everything was as sunny and fun as it had been all week. And then the vacation would be over.


End file.
